Saturday, November 17, 2012

Girl of the World: #2 I Found The Links 11/17/12

Girl of the World: #2 I Found The Links 11/17/12: I opened the envelope from the DNA testing company while standing outside at the mailbox. It read: 88% caucasian, 10% Sub-Saharan African, 8...

#2 I Found The Links 11/17/12

I opened the envelope from the DNA testing company while standing outside at the mailbox. It read: 88% caucasian, 10% Sub-Saharan African, 8% Native American.

It took a few seconds to register. Sub-Saharan African. 10%. I'm black! My first thought was, "Maybe I'm related to Dr. King."

I knew Cherokee often intermarried with African slaves, men and women who had either escaped or bought their freedom. But 10% was a lot, more than I possibly anticipated. Back in 2005, I would have never believed I would be able to solve that mystery and many more, but that's why I'm writing now.

I was truly Native American. The info from my mother about my father was valid, at least in part. I was discovering who I was, who I am. Who my people were. Who my people are.

One afternoon, I was staying late at school, working on the computer in my classroom for an online CLAD class. The maintenance guy came in to fix the overhead LCD projector. We were in the first year of a brand new high school, and this was one of the glitches. We got to chatting. He told me he had gone online and found that one of his ancestors fought in the Revolutionary War. He found it on Ancestry.com.

I recalled my grandmother had said Grandfather Link's people went way back, to the Mayflower. How many families say that, huh? But my curiosity was peeked. I knew his full name: Haviland John Link. I was close to Grandma, heard all the family stories.

So into Ancestry.com went Haviland John Link. Et voila, a distant cousin had researched the Links back to 1740 when Jacob Link came over from Germany to Pennsylvania. His son fought in the Revolutionary War, then they went through the Cumberland Gap to Kentucky. Another generation packed up granny, et al, in a Conestoga wagon, and settled in St. Louis, Missouri, to farm, around the time Lewis and Clark left for the Pacific. They stayed until their side lost the Civil War, then the Links built the railroad to the last stop in Como, Colorado, around 10,000 ft. up in the Rockies. That's where Grandfather Link was born and raised. His mother, I remembered, had the last name Sweet. There she was on the computer screen: Alice Eliza Sweet. Haviland met Grandma in Denver. They moved to Oakland, Cal. My mother was born, then me. I found the Links.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

#1 Girl of the World: I Thought We Were Just Irish 11/15/2012

#1 Girl of the World: I Thought We Were Just Irish 11/15/2012: My mother told me I had a Cherokee grandmother on my father's side. I had decided to ask her about my father; I never had asked before. I'd ...

#1 I Thought We Were Just Irish 11/15/2012

My mother told me I had a Cherokee grandmother on my father's side. I had decided to ask her about my father; I never had asked before. I'd just had my first child, and just like they say adopted children find that to be a soul-searching, parent-seeking time--I wanted to finally know about my father. Why I'd never asked her in the  previous twenty-five years, I couldn't say. Maybe I didn't consider her a reliable source.  My Aunt Alice said she had no idea who my father was, when I'd asked her. That if you sat on a pincushion, how would you know which one stuck you?  Nice response. My older sister thought she knew. But her input didn't match mother's.

Cherokee? She gave me a name: Virgil Mills, from Oklahoma, in the Army. He had wanted to get married, but she didn't, having just come off a divorce. She didn't say if he knew about me. He went to Panama; they lost contact.

I never asked again. I never looked for him for another thirty years. I thought about it, but didn't want to interfere with someone's family--even if I may be his family, too; I didn't want to be rejected.

I did think about the Cherokee thing. When kids I taught called me a gringo, or honkie, cracker or haole, I would say, no, I'm Cherokee, I'm not truly only white. Finally, it bugged me so much that they didn't believe me, I had a DNA test about seven years ago.

Boy, was I surprised. I thought we were just Irish.